Sentiment
by PhoenixFeather0198
Summary: A collection of one-shots featuring our two main characters, Dr John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. Some will be Johnlock, some won't - although most will be Johnlock, knowing me :P Requests taken, so please ask! Rating because I'm paranoid. I know it's romance/humour but there'll be a few heavier ones chucked in the mixture too!
1. Come Home

**A/n: Hello everyone! So after reading lots of awesome Sherlock stories on here by you wonderful people, I decided to start my own collection of one-shots! Having said one-shots, I'll probably make part 2s or 3s etc for some of them, knowing me :P I hope you all like this one, I have a rough plan for the next chapters so hopefully updates should be relatively frequent. Lastly, if you have any requests just PM me or put it in a review!**

**This is mainly texting.**

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Come Home

"It's no problem, I hope you get well soon!" John said, closing his office door after his patient. Sighing, he looked at his watch: 2pm. Three hours left to go until he was free. His awful headache really wasn't helping matters either.

_Beep._

Glancing down at his phone, John saw he had a new text from, surprise surprise, Sherlock.

How's the headache? –SH

How did he – oh never mind. It wasn't as if John was expecting him _not _to know after all. Pressing the reply button, he began to type:

Horrible. Luckily there's only 2 hours 57 mins left though. –JW

Counting down already John? –SH

Oh shut up. –JW

Why? I'm enjoying myself here. –SH

Rolling his eyes at his phone, John looked at his schedule. His next patient was due in half an hour. Leaning back in his chair, John closed his eyes. Him and Sherlock had been up for most of the night; doing a (most necessary) 'experiment'. It was fair to say the results had been worth it. However, he was exhausted – not that he was complaining, mind you.

His phone beeped again.

Bored. –SH

Entertain yourself then. –JW

I can't. You confiscated my gun and Lestrade doesn't have any cases worthy of my attention. –SH

Oh heaven forbid. –JW

There are other ways to entertain yourself than shooting the wall or showing off at a crime scene, you know Sherlock. –JW

I know. But I'll need you for that. ;) –SH

Haha. If I could help you, I would. However I am at work. And will be for the next 2 hours 49 minutes. –JW

Get un-working then. Or, start working… in a different way ;) –SH

My my, we are bored aren't we? –JW

Incredibly. –SH

Tell you what, after this patient, I'll take the rest of the day off. Deal? –JW

No. Sooner. –SH

No way! Ever heard the phrase 'patience is a virtue'? –JW

If I have I've deleted it. –SH

Of course. Although I know for a fact you're lying. –JW

Good deduction. Any evidence? –SH

Yep, I said it to you yesterday! –JW

Not bad John. Your deduction skills are (very slowly) improving! –SH

Well, I learn from the best ;) –JW

Correct. Sure you don't want to come home? I reckon we need a few more results for our 'experiment'. –SH

Scratch that. A lot more. –SH

I can't just do it by myself now, can I? –SH

Sherlock, stop it I am attending to a patient and you're incredibly distracting. –JW

You can attend to me any day you like John ;) –SH

Oh come on, I've been saving that one. –SH

Oh you're good John. I suppose I'll just have to conduct OUR experiment alone then… -SH

Please come home. –SH

I'm begging you now. And you know I never beg. –SH

Well, I beg for _somethings_ if you get my drift. –SH

Please? -SH

I'll be there in 10 minutes. You git. -JW

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**A/n: Hope you all liked it! Let me know what you thought :) Love it, hate it, too OCC? Tell me! :)**


	2. It's Been Three Years

**A/n: Thank you all for your reviews, follows and favourites! It means a lot to me, it really does. Ok, so basically this chapter was meant to be light-hearted fluff but I'm feeling a bit not good at the moment, so my brain threw up this angsty story. Sorry! I hope you all like it though. I promise I'll give you all less serious stuff next!**

**This is set three years after the Fall.**

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It's Been Three Years

Sherlock,

It's been three years now. Three years today. I still don't know what to do. Everyone's trying to help me through but they just don't understand. Greg gets the closest, but I just push him away. You never cared about anyone, and you managed just fine - so why shouldn't it work for me?

I visited your grave today. Nothing's changed much; apart from the flowers which I updated – you've got some Azalea's now; the lady in the shop said they mean 'take care of yourself for me'. Please do. Hope you like them.

In case you wanted to know (which I sincerely doubt but I might as well tell you), me and my new girlfriend Anna broke up. After _3 days_. Something about depression apparently. We had a fight which only made me feel worse because she said that I'm so miserable I might as well be dead but that's just it – I wish I was dead, Sherlock, then I'd be with you. After the fight I just went to Baker Street and curled myself up on your bed surrounded by your things and cried. I think I slept too. I know when I woke up it was morning.

Mycroft visited yesterday. No news or anything, but he just came round to 'check up on me' – plant even more cameras around my flat more likely. Did you know I found on in the bathroom last week? Your brother is seriously gross mate.

Oh and you know that letter that I wrote to you last week? The one ranting at you for not caring at all because you're a stupid git? Yeah well, I'm going to tell you something that I once told you before but it needs to be said again:

Friends, Sherlock, protect people. Most of all, _your_ friends protect _you_.

But you don't have any friends, do you Sherlock? I had this one friend you know, who I believed loved me back. You know, in a friend way. But apparently not. And it tore me apart. So I just want you to know Sherlock, that if ever you feel like coming back to me, don't. Don't, unless you've realized that you need friends to live. You need me to live Sherlock, and I need you.

Please Sherlock. Don't. Be. Dead. Please. Just for me.

John.

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**A/n: I'd love to hear your opinions!**


	3. We Are Not Having A Moment

**A/n: So sorry for the wait guys! I had lots to do, this was pushed down my priorities list :( Hopefully the next couple of chapters should be up a bit faster. **

**I know this ones a bit longer than the rest, please let me know your opinions on it! :)**

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We are not having a moment

Sherlock opened his eyes after another trip into his mind palace. _It really is quite beautiful there, _he thought_, compared to 221B. Then again, John's not there, whereas he is in the flat_. Glancing around for the man, Sherlock was surprised to see no sign of him. Curious, he got off the sofa and stood up. Silent, Sherlock listened. He couldn't hear the soft whirr of John's laptop; the small creaks on the floor made by John when he was in his bedroom; nor the tell-tale, typically John-like, sound of the kettle humming. In fact, he could not see or hear John at all.

Not that Sherlock was particularly worried about this - when John first moved in he had frequently gone out during the night. However, seeing as him and Sherlock had recently become a little more than just flat mates, Sherlock supposed he should feel something by his absence.

Sweeping the room with his eyes again, Sherlock noticed a sticky-note taped to the door which he had not previously seen.

_Sherlock,_

_I don't know whether or not you heard - you do seem to literally go into another world when you do your mind palace thing - but Molly called, saying that she needed us to look over a body at St Bart's. As you're busy, I said I'd go. I should be back in an hour or so, if you need anything just call. _

_See you soon, John x_

That explained the missing John then. Looking first at the note again then at his watch, Sherlock deduced that John wouldn't be back for another 45 minutes or so, judging by the state of the ink on the note. Sitting back down on the couch again, Sherlock tried to re-enter his mind palace once more. But, try as he might, he was distracted. So, getting up, Sherlock pulled on his coat and scarf, and set out to St Bart's; to John.

John was bored. There was simply no other way of facing it. He had only been studying this body for about 15 minutes, yet already he was missing the company of his gorgeous flat mate - something which he thought he would _never _say. Molly's presence just didn't equal that of Sherlock's. John was missing Sherlock's constant running commentary of what John was doing, the way that every now and then John would say something that would make Sherlock's eyes sparkle in pride. It was the latter in particular that John loved about him the most. Despite Sherlock's constant telling him that he was an idiot, every so often Sherlock would look at John in genuine pleasure and satisfaction that made John's stomach squirm in happiness.

"John."

John jumped, consequently dropping the pair of tweezers he was holding.

"Sherlock?"

For there he was. Standing there in his coat and scarf, although John could just see a hint of stripped pyjama trousers from the bottom of his coat, was Sherlock, looking at him.

"Sherlock!" They both turned around. It was Molly who had spoken, coming into the lab holding a mug of tea for John. John rolled his eyes. _Bring on the flirting, _he thought to himself.

Taking the tea from her, Sherlock replied, "Yes, hello Molly. You can go home now if you want to, we'll be fine, I know Lestrade will be pleased."

"What... how... no, no, we're not..." Molly spluttered. Both Sherlock and John smirked.

"It's ok Molly, we won't say anything," John told her, still smirking. "Honestly!" He added, seeing the look on her face.

Still eyeing them warily, Molly said "Ok, I'll leave you guys to it. This place automatically locks down in 2 hours though, but if you need more time then Sherlock... well yeah you know how I presume." And without a backwards glance, Molly half-walked half-ran out of the room.

When she was gone, John turned to Sherlock, raising his eyebrows.

"Because the flat is lonely when it's just got me in it." Sherlock said, correctly interpreting John's silent question. At this, John smiled and walked over to Sherlock, giving him a small kiss on the cheek.

"Do you want to help then? Protective gloves are in the box over there - put a pair on and come over here." John instructed, walking back over to the dead body lying on the worktop.

Complying, Sherlock took off his coat and scarf, hung them up on a nearby coat peg, and pulled on a pair of protective gloves. Looking back at John, he saw that he was absorbed in the body, taking things out and putting them away in storage, glancing up at his computer every now and again to check a fact or figure.

They stayed this way for another 5 minutes or so, until John said with a smirk "Are you just going to stand there and stare at me, or are you coming to help?"

"What?" Replied Sherlock, having completely forgotten what he was meant to be doing. "Oh, right, dead body, coming just now." John grinned at him.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that the great Sherlock Holmes just succumbed to sentiment!" He teased, winking at him. "Perhaps I should go, so he can fully focus on the proper task in hand..."

"No!" Sherlock replied, just a second to quickly. John gave him a smug look. "No, no, you don't have to go John. Please."

"Please?"

"Don't make me say it again, you know I hate the word."

"Get yourself over here then." This time, Sherlock did as he was told. Grabbing a bunch of equipment, he positioned himself opposite to John.

"So what's the situation, Doctor Watson?" Sherlock asked.

John frowned. "Haven't you already worked it out - probably much better than me anyway?"

"Obviously. However I want to see what you've gained from your time with our dead companion here."

"Alright then." John took a deep breath. "I know that she died in a gas explosion, judging by the state of her body. Also, she's been dead for about 6 days, which is annoying, because if Molly had let me take a look earlier then we would be able to know a lot more about her."

"Very good," Sherlock said, smiling at him. "Anything else?"

"Yes. However what's interesting is what happened to her after her death. See how her face is severely damaged? Molly said that that came from the explosion. But that can't be right. If it was due to it then the rest of her body would look like that, but it's only her face. Therefore somebody _deliberately _did this to her, most likely before the gas explosion, and used the 'accidental' explosion as a cover." John finished, feeling rather proud of himself. Looking up at Sherlock, who had been watching him intently, John was proud to see that Sherlock was smiling an impressed smile at him.

"Incredible. You really have learned something from me then, after all. You really are quite skilled, Doctor Watson."

"Thanks." John grinned. Bending back over the body, John continued his analysis. Unnoticed by him, Sherlock pretended to also be fiddling with various medical equipment. Slowly, he started to come closer and closer to John's body, finally stopping when there was less than a centimetre between them. Sherlock carefully wrapped his arms around him, grinning when John let out a small sigh.

Then, it was John's turn to grin as suddenly he spun around, grabbing Sherlock's collar.

"No. I am dissecting a body in the middle of the night. We are not having a moment." He told the taller man firmly.

Sherlock pouted. "Oh John come on! I'm bored, you're doing all the fun stuff whilst successfully turning me on, why can't we have a moment?"

"Because no that's why. Look-" John let go of Sherlock and walked over to the corner, pointing at a security camera. "This is still on. If we did anything, imagine who would be able to see it?"

Sherlock grinned a wolfish grin. "_Exactly._" Crossing the room to John, he pulled the man into a long, deep kiss. John limply tried to struggle, but they both knew it was pointless. They both broke off, staring at each other.

"Oh what the hell!" John said, turning them so they were both in direct view of the camera, and kissing Sherlock with all the energy he could muster. Not complaining in the slightest, Sherlock proceeded to follow suit, slipping his hand under John's shirt.

Let's just say the dead woman's analysis wasn't exactly finished by morning.

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**A/n: Hope you liked it! Please leave me some feedback :)**


	4. A Golden Beam of Light

**A/n: Here you are! I hope you like this one, I quite like how it turned out, but I'm not 100% on it - sorry!**

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Confessions

_He was running through the battlefield, head down and low, glancing back as he ran. They were closer and closer, they would soon be upon him. Cursing, he ran flat out. He could see the bunker in the distance; people calling his name. He knew it had been a bad idea to leave it's shelter and safety. But he had had to go; to find the owner of those screams – screams which had been on-going for almost a day now. When he had reached them, he was too late. Just as he knelt down beside the body; Sherlock, his best friend; it gave a final cry and death took him under. _

_John had been too late. He couldn't save him._

_And now as he was running, the bunker coming nearer and nearer, he glanced back one more time, hearing the tell-tale BANG of a bullet. Opening his eyes wide, he realised – no, this could not be, how-_

"JOHN!"

John opened his eyes and scrambled out of bed with the force of that same bullet; crawling towards his bedroom door. _It wasn't real, it was just a dream, you're not dead. _His whole body was shaking.

"John?"

He whirled around, and jumped in shock and surprise. There was Sherlock, a look of fear and – surely it couldn't be – _concern_ on his face. "Are you alright?"

Sherlock had crossed the room over to where John sat, huddled up against the door, shaking.

"Wha- what happened? Oh god did I talk? Sherlock I'm sor-"

He was interrupted by Sherlock's warm embrace, his arms surrounding John's body, softly rubbing John's back. Not caring what Sherlock would think, John let the silent tears fall down his cheeks and into Sherlock's blue dressing gown, his body shaking even more. Neither of them spoke, content to let only the sound of John's almost-silent sobs fill the room.

Finally, Sherlock spoke. "Shall I make you some tea?" In response, John nodded against Sherlock's chest. Helping John up, Sherlock quickly went into the kitchen and put the kettle on, getting a cup as he did so. When he returned into John's bedroom, it was to find the ex-army doctor curled up in a ball, hugging his knees, lying back away from the door on the bed. Setting the cup down onto the bedside table, Sherlock gently tapped on John's shoulder.

"Go away." Came his muffled voice, still with a croaky aspect from the tears. Sherlock sighed. He couldn't say that he hadn't been half-expecting the embarrassment to appear, but it wasn't as if he wanted it nonetheless. Sitting on the corner of the bed, he put his hand on the small of John's back – resulting in John just shuffling further away on the bed. Sherlock smiled. For complaining about _him _being a child sometimes, John didn't exactly act much better.

Using John's distance as an advantage, Sherlock lay himself down on the bed, lying on his back. Picking up one of his books from John's table (it was lucky really that Sherlock did leave his stuff everywhere, you never know when it would come in handy) he began to read. He knew that John just needed some time.

After about 9.24 minutes (ok _fine, _Sherlock had been counting – so what?) John uncurled himself and rolled over, so that his head was resting on Sherlock's chest. Sherlock slid down the headboard to allow a more comfortable position to be reached, and waited.

"I'm sorry."

Sherlock knew John wasn't looking for anything in reply, so instead he let his actions speak for him. He ran his fingers through John's hair, tracing small circles. Putting down his book, he lay there, motionless but for his hand in John's hair, softly soothing him to sleep.

In only a few minutes time, John's slower breathing told him that he was asleep. Smiling to himself, Sherlock looked down at the sleeping doctor. He knew that neither one of them would say a word about this tomorrow, but right now that was the last thing on his mind.

He would continue to help John through every nightmare he got, and John sure wasn't going to stop him. In the end, the tea grew cold, the sun came up through the drawn curtains, and the world span on.

But when it became to much, the pair would always treasure this moment in their hearts, like a golden beam of light, guiding them through.

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**A/n: I tried my best. I'd love to hear how I did! :)**


	5. Fortune Cookies

**A/n: I'm so so so sorry guys! This hasn't been updated in nearly 2 months! I've been swamped in school work (we only just broke up for the summer holidays yesterday) for the past weeks, and I haven't had a single spare moment! I hope this makes up for it though.**

**This one is based from that scene at the end of A Study In Pink, where they are talking about the near Chinese restaurant and Sherlock says "I can always predict the fortune cookies" and John protests, "No you can't." This is the following scene at the restaurant!**

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Fortune Cookies

They were walking towards the nearby Chinese, with Sherlock randomly deducing people walking by for John's entertainment. John seemed to still be running on an adrenaline high, and was bouncing along the street, Sherlock right beside him.

As they reached the restaurant, Sherlock, entering first, held the door open for John as he followed behind the taller man.

"Table for two please." Sherlock said, seeing the approaching waiter. He eyed the two of them for a moment (John struggled hard not to roll his eyes) then lead them to a table near the back of the restaurant. He placed two menus down on their table. After pulling Sherlock's chair out for him and dropping John a quick wink, he left.

"_Honestly._" John huffed. "We barely know each other and _already _people think we've got it for each other!"

"Word choice, John. You'll want to be more careful than that." Sherlock replied.

"Word choice? What did I say?"

"Already. You said 'and _already _people think' – implying you have no doubts that people will think that we're in love eventually, but you did not expect it so soon." Sherlock finished, watching how John's face turned from shock, to confusion, to embarrassed.

"Yeah well… you know what people are like… thinking these things… I don't know…" he mumbled, blushing.

Luckily, John was saved from any further embarrassment by the waiter arriving to take their orders. John, not having given the menu a single glance, ordered the same as Sherlock. This didn't turn out to be the best of all moves, as he earned another smirk from the waiter.

The waiter shortly returned with their complimentary fortune cookies. John grinned.

"Go on then," he said, picking one up, "what do you reckon it'll say?"

"Something about a surprise waiting for you I think."

Opening his cookie, John's jaw dropped in astonishment.

"'_A pleasant surprise is waiting for you_'" he read out loud. "How on earth did you guess that!" Sherlock simply smiled in response. John looked less shocked now, and was returning to his in-awe-of-Sherlock expression. "Amazing!" He uttered, and before Sherlock had time to make a witty retort, he leaned across the table and kissed him on the cheek.

Now it was Sherlock's turn to look shocked.

"John-"

"Shh Sherlock, you'll ruin the moment. Just go with it." The smaller man replied.

"If you insist." Quickly (so quickly that John wasn't entirely sure it happened) Sherlock too leaned across and gave John a quick kiss near the corner of his mouth. John turned a violent shade of red and looked down at his feet. A pleasant surprise surely had been waiting for him!

Sherlock turned to look at the waiter, who gave him a thumbs up. He rolled his eyes. Trust Lestrade to be ever willing to help speed things up between the detective and his blogger.

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**A/n: Oh come on, I had to. Sorry this isn't the best, I don't know what's wrong with my creative side at the moment, it's usually a lot better! Still, I would love to know what you thought of that :)**


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